


Lunaris

by Starcadia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Cats, Fantasy, Gen, Spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-09-27 05:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17156270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcadia/pseuds/Starcadia
Summary: Chamill, a desperate calico cat, decides to venture from home in pursuit of her destiny. On the night of her departure, she witnesses a phenomenon in the night sky that invigorates her to chase after her fate. Along the way, she'll meet faces both encouraging and woeful, and discover places her curious eyes have never witnessed before. Malign forces beyond belief may disrupt her journey, but Chamill will do anything to discover her dreams' secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is going to be the first original work that I'm going to post. I would normally post a story only when it's fully written, but I decided to post one chapter at a time for this story, in the hopes of getting early responses and critiques.
> 
> I might be slow with updates but hopefully I'll eventually finish this! And maybe I'll polish this story once it's finally written to completion :3
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy reading!

Useless, brain-dead, cowardly. That was how most cats would slander Chamill. Whether they were her housemates or a neighbor, they knew to look down upon the calico. Chamill would often find her food bowl half empty; her body would be lined with defenseless scratches; her housemates would somehow shift the blame on her, and the giants would kick her out of their shelter to sleep in the dreary rain. Was it because she was young? Did her mismatched eye colors mark her as an enemy? Was there a hidden faction system she was unaware of? No. It was none of those reasons. It was because she was a dreamer.

When Chamill had first arrived in this maze-like shelter, her curiosity and wonder were bountiful. She’d bound all over the place, racing across rooms and leaping from the furry cube-shaped trees that served as their homes. The cats that had already been living with the giants were so eager to play with her, and she received matching collars that rung with each movement. But with each passing night, things grew strange. Her dreams of chasing mice and getting tangled in bundles of yarn turned into absolute darkness. Enigmatic voices would whisper to her, though she couldn’t comprehend what they were trying to communicate to her. Sometimes brief flashes of images would appear, but they’d look like smudges to the clueless calico.

On the day she first received the spooky dream, she’d immediately shared it with her housemates. “I’m telling you, they’re real!” she would insist.

“You probably had _way_ too much catnip before you slept,” she recalled Stripes, a black and white cat, telling her over their morning meal. “Finish your bowl or the others will start to get ideas.”

But Chamill would continue to share them. She’d have insights on the dreams’ meaning, but the others would simply call her crazy. It was then that her housemates would begin to abhor her and her obsession. Chamill should’ve kept it to herself. It would’ve avoided her many nights with empty bellies, but she couldn’t help letting everyone know of her dreams’ mystifying beauty.

Dream after dream, insult after insult. It grew to the point that Chamill _wished_ these dreams would stop. But no matter how much she begged—no matter how little she ate and how much catnip she’d denied, the anonymous voices wouldn’t leave her alone.

One night came another dream, unsurprisingly. What caught Chamill off guard, however, was how clear the voices and visions became. Though there were many voices, they all spoke deeply in unison.

 

_Follow the stars to your destiny, your fate_

_And never allow adversaries to make you bend._

_But venture not on other’s path, no matter how straight_

_For you shall truly meet your mortal end._

 

In the darkness, Chamill could scarcely make out the silhouette of a black cat. The faceless figure looked at her for what felt like an eternity. Its head snapped to the side, and, looking fearful, pounced away as a rushing river of blood threatened to drown the black cat. Chamill’s fur rose as her paws were submerged in the cold red liquid. It was just a dream, she was aware, but she felt the blood clinging to her, staining her fur crimson.

The blood seemed to be dissipating, however, or maybe Chamill was floating high in the void. Then a burst of color engulfed the darkness. It blinded Chamill for a second, but upon getting used to the new light, she was awestruck. All the colors of the spectrum flew around her in streaks, filling her with great inner peace. She reached about her, clawing at a streak of orange and blue and green, hoping that she could gather some to keep with her forever.

The colors all flew away, leaving the calico in the now-white void. The echoing voice returned with one last message.

 

_Blinded not by horror or ennui you must venture_

_Ahead of you lay many hoops of despair: endure._

_To your empty, yearning soul you will find the cure_

_And with a mutual wanderer with dreams, live rest assured._

 

_Your plight and journey shall start soon_

_Await at its brightest, the silver moon._

 

No matter where Chamill looked, even in the light, the source of the voices remained a mystery. She had so many questions for them: What did they mean by all this? Why had she been receiving these dreams?

The sensation of tranquility the waves of color gave her began to fade as she rose from her slumber. The first thing she saw upon opening her dreamy eyes was Stripes, who was staring at her in bewilderment. “Are you all right?” he asked, head tilted. “I know you keep rambling about your dreams, but you were flailing an awful lot today. Anything about your dream that would pique my interest?”

The urge to spill her thoughts about this new dream kicked in, but Chamill bit her tongue. She instead replied, “Nothing, really. Same old, same old. I still don’t understand what they could possibly mean.”

“Well, don’t go cryptic detective mode on us all. We all know how that’s going to turn out.”

Chamill’s ears drooped as she whispered a somber “Yeah.”

Stripes was the only cat who could fully tolerate her superstitions, and the only cat she considered her friend in the household (aside from maybe the other cat who others called a mute). That may be due to his older age having more wisdom than the other cats, but Chamill hoped he’d be with her forever. He nudged her head with his own.

“Lighten up, Chamill. I've heard from our neighbors that there’s going to be a full moon tonight. You’re never going to see it if you mope around all day.”

 _A full moon?_ That had to be what the voices referred to. Sudden excitement rushed through Chamill; she was far too eager to question how her dream could’ve connected that. She bounced to her paws, her tail swaying in enthusiasm.

Stripes chuckled. “Look who’s finally alive. I knew that would get you off your belly. Are you ready to start the day?”

With a grin wide on her face, Chamill replied, “You bet.”

 

Everyone was mildly surprised to see the lack of rambling from Chamill. They’d tease her, expecting for her to babble endlessly, but all they got was silence from her. It was hard to tell whether they were confused or genuinely happy to be free of the dream talks.

Regardless if they’d decided to finally stop bullying her, Chamill hid in a bush in the backyard to eat her morning meal. She’d bring her already half-empty with her, and Stripes would bring her a pawful of the dry munchies.

“You don’t have to keep hiding here,” Stripes said. Through the foliage, Chamill could still see the frown on his face.

“I like it here. It’s warm, and cozy, and safe, and— Ouch! I think a thorn fell into my bowl.” Chamill spat some blood and a chewed up piece of barb. “Okay, maybe not that cozy and safe after all, but I like it better than eating inside or in the open.”

Stripes gave an understanding nod. Behind him, a pair of orange Abyssinian cats hopped down from the fence that divided their shelter from one the neighboring structures.

“Is the delusional one hiding again?” Amber, the light furred cat, teased as she looked right through the bush.

The darker furred sibling named Copper cackled. “She must actually think she’s a wild animal, hiding in a small tree all the time. Cats don't belong there, you freak!”

Stripes sighed, shaking his head. “For the last time, trees and bushes are not the same; much like how you and clever are not to be confused with.”

“Hey!” Exclaimed Amber. “Don't go insulting my brother like that! _We're_ supposed to be the ones hurting _you_ !” She glared at Stripes for the longest time. Suddenly, a grin crossed her cruel face. “Hmm. I wonder what the delusional outsider would do if we _decked_ her only friend right now.”

“Oooh, let's do it! I'm aching to shred some fur.” Copper flexed his claws, as did Amber.

Chamill shivered. Were they seriously going to hurt Stripes? She couldn't let that happen; then again, what _is_ she going to do? The two assailants looked tougher and buffer than her and Stripes combined, and she had no prior experience in paw-to-claw combat. But if it meant protecting Stripes. . . .

 _No._ Chamill couldn't. She couldn't muster up the courage to defend Stripes. She couldn't throw herself into danger if it meant saving her only friend. All she could do was whimper, her bell shivering with her shrinking body as the two flaming cats approached Stripes, claws drawn and ready to strike.

When Copper sprang at Stripes, a gray cat crashed into him before he could tackle his target. He was pinned to the ground, and before Amber could intercept, another cat—this one being an orange tabby—tackled and restrained her as well. She struggled to throw some sort of insult with her maw being pressed against the grassy soil.

Ash, the gray cat, gave a scowl at Stripes, then eventually at Chamill. “I suppose I can surmise the reason behind this _assault_.” Copper gave a muffled hiss as Ash pressed harder.

“Let them go,” Stripes said in an almost commanding voice.

The orange tabby, Ginger, let out a huff. As she reluctantly removed her weight from Amber, she said, “Awfully brave of you to release them immediately after they tried to kill you. Did we mention that you'd totally be a shredded pelt if it weren't for us?”

Stripes nodded. “Thank you, but I was hoping someone else would have my rear.” The disappointed look he gave to Chamill stung; the sneering faces on the swiftly defeated Abyssinians were the dog slobber on her deep wound. She retreated farther into the bush, hoping that she'd be transported into a thicket of trees.

“Ah, don't bother with her,” Ash gruffed. “As long as there are other cats to do the job, you shouldn't have to worry about her. She could be as useless as she wants for all I care.” He turned to the twins Abyssinians. “You two, scram. I don't want any more trouble from either of you.”

“Oh, we would gladly be wonderful neighbors if it weren't for your tick problem,” Amber grinned at Chamill. “I thought I'd do you a favor of trying to hurt her externally. Anyway, toodles.” She proceeded to sprint toward her side of the area and leaped onto the fence.

“See you later, freak. Thanks for being our daily entertainment,” Copper added before chasing after his sister.

Stripes's saviors departed into the shelter. Stripes stayed for the meantime, his head drooping. He cast a downcast glance at Chamill. “I'll get us some catnip.” With his tail as low as his head, he idly looked around in the garden for any growing catnip.

But Chamill wasn't going to have any. She would deny everything Stripes offered to cheer her up. She didn't deserve it. All she could relish was her living state, but even then she questioned if the Abyssinian twins should've attacked her instead. There was no redemption for her in this household.

All she could hope for was the silver moon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This chapter took a lot longer to be published as I had a terrible writer's block for the past month or so. But I finally finished the second chapter! Currently working on the third chapter, and I have a change of plans with the story. It may start to feel like another series that involves cats in the forest...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

The day crept by at an agonizing pace. Chamill sat on the fence for the entirety that the sun was up, her eyes set on the sky and occasionally taking a gander at the woods in the near distance. She wouldn’t even move when Stripes perched beside her. “Hey,” she whispered without looking at him.

“You must be really eager to see the full moon, huh?” Stripes gave a smile, though it faded when Chamill wouldn’t spare him a glance. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to sound upset, but . . .”

“It’s fine. I understand why you’d be disappointed. I just got . . . so, so scared when they started getting near you. I wanted to protect you, but I . . .” She whimpered, then instinctively inched closer to Stripes. She felt him wrap his tail around her spine.

“I know you’ll get braver someday. It might be soon, it might be when I’m gone, but I know you will.” Stripes gave a smile, despite sounding somber near the end.

That thought began to circulate in Chamill’s mind once more. What would her life come to once Stripes was gone? Would anyone else love her and care for her as much as him? It seemed unlikely, and that further blurred her vision of the future—the future where she was alone; a time when she still couldn’t fend for herself, and no one else would stand up to her. A shiver convulsed through her body. “I hope you’re right about that,” she whispered.

Her eyes were still set on the glimmering moon floating overhead. Even before the ominous dream, she had a fondness for the night sky's beauty. A giant white marble glowing in the sky, with smaller orbs scattered everywhere, twinkling as to guide stray cats. One of them could very well be the one to lead Chamill to her fate.

“That forest always gives me the creeps,” Stripes said. “It looks dark, even with our night-sight, and those pointy trees give the sense of dread and danger. I swear there are glowing eyes that stare at me sometimes.” He shivered. “Could just be my hazy eyes playing tricks on me.”

Chamill observed the tall trees. Unlike the sky, nothing in the woods looked pleasant. There were some glowing orbs that floated around, sure, but it looked crowded. Chamill would probably run into every tree with how compact it looked.

She recalled what Amber kept mentioning. “Do you really believe that a monster from the forest is the cause of the missing cats? I mean, looking at it now, it just seems so . . . plausible.”

Stripes shook his head. “That sounds like an old queen's tale to keep her kittens from straying too far. I think those Abyssinians were just trying to spook you.”

“Well, it worked. . . . But what do you think could've happened to those cats?”

Stripes was silent. It unnerved Chamill with how long the silence lasted, but he eventually spoke. “I like to think that they're in a better place—and I don't mean that they've used up their ninth life. I mean that wherever they may be, wandering or napping, they've found their own sanctuary.” He smiled sadly.

Chamill could see glimpses of fond memories and days of regret in his wistful eyes. She had been in some of those moments, as it reflected in her own eyes, but she had never fully known Stripes’s life—akin to how he didn’t know hers, much like everyone else.

A flash of light came from the house's direction, drawing the cats’ attention. In the sky, a glaring ball of light streaked across the sky. Its flaming white beauty with tinges of blue rivaled the silver moon. Chamill couldn’t believe what she was witnessing—it was the fastest object that she had ever seen zoom across the sky.

It flew over them, and it disappeared in the field of trees. Instinctively, Chamill launched off her haunches and chased after it. “Chamill!” she heard Stripes call behind her, followed by a thump against the hard soil. It didn't deter her, however, as she was set on following the shining object.

The wind brushed her fur, and her bell rang wildly as she ran. She hopped over embedded boulders and pointy twigs; she stepped on one at some point, causing her to yelp and limp for a moment, but she pressed on with determination.

She then stood on the boundary of trees that would lead into the woods. She turned her head, hearing Stripes's shallow breathing. “Why on earth did you decide to run off like that?” he asked between wheezes.

“You didn't have to follow me,” Chamill replied. “I just . . . I have a feeling I'm supposed to follow that thing.”

Through his exhaustion, Stripes gave her a perplexed look. “It's far off in the distance by now with how fast it flew. It'd take several lives before you can catch that thing, if you haven't run out before you do.” He lay flat on the grass, his sides heaving.

Chamill sat in silence at his doubt. He would only drive her away from something if it meant protecting her. Toxic food, unnecessary quarrels, forbidden parts of the house—she had been grateful for all those times.

But for this instance: she knew what she wanted to do.

“I have to follow it,” she insisted. “The dreams I've been having, this  _ has _ to be it. You might not understand, but there's nothing for me in our shelter. My true calling is out there somewhere, and it starts with following that trail of light.”

Stripes looked up at him. Amusement flickered in his eyes. “It must be, if it sparked you back to life.” He sighed. “I won't stop you if you want to chase your destiny. You are your own animal, no other being should have control over you.”

Hope flooded Chamill's features. But her joy and eagerness were quickly washed over by utter sadness. “Won't you . . . come with me?”

“I'm afraid I can't.” Stripes heaved as he sat up. “I'm getting old, and I don't think I can handle an adventure. You have to venture off by your lonesome.”

That statement alone shattered Chamill's heart. Her greatest fears were coming into fruition, and she didn't know if she could handle it. Tears started forming in her eyes. “I'm sorry that I have to go. I want to stay with you, I really do, but I don't think I can last until the next full moon staying here.”

Stripes padded closer to her and bowed his head, resting his forehead on hers. “I understand. Every cat should be free to chase whatever they believe in. You're no exception to that. I do wish for us to be together, and we will be—in spirit.” He licked her forehead, and she hesitantly reciprocated as she held back her sobs.

“Let's get this off you now,” Stripes added. He delicately pinched Chamill's collar with his teeth. With added delicate movement with his front paws, the collar dropped with one final jingle. “There. We wouldn't want you attracting unwanted attention.”

Chamill looked down at it. It looked rather nice, actually, and she liked the tinkling it made whenever she moved, but Stripes was right. Anything could be lurking in the shadows of the woods.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She took one step back toward the forest; and then another; then another, all while maintaining eye contact with Stripes.

Stripes bowed his head when she turned around. “I hope you find your sanctuary,” he wished, his words digging into Chamill’s head.

Chamill could feel him staring at her again, longing to accompany her. But it was the only way. At least, that's what she wanted to believe. Every fiber of her being craved to look back, to return to Stripes's warmth and comfort, but she must press on.

As she went deeper into the woods, the darker and colder it grew. She was already beginning to regret this decision. The wet soil crept up her paws, and she was surrounded by little buzzing creatures. Some even latched onto her pelt, which she promptly shook off with a guttural noise.

“Why can't there be floating balls of light here? Or even a paw trail?” Even with just walking in one direction, the world seemed to be turning around Chamill. The lights from the shelters were long gone. Even if she wanted to back down from this journey, she couldn't.  It was as if it had vanished from existence.

Voices whispered in her quivering ears. Despite the fact that it sounded alien, Chamill tossed it up to her anxiety. She wouldn't let them dissuade her.

Up ahead lay a small clearing, where no trees stood. Moonlight was finally able to pour into the forest, and it brought relief to Chamill's heart. In spite of her fur recoiling from the moist grass, she forced herself to lie down.

The effects of running earlier began to settle in. Her paws ached from exhaustion, and her tongue yearned for the pet bottle back at home. She'd just realized that survival was going to be a huge obstacle for her. With no giant to fill her bowl and no convenient bottle of water, she had to make do with whatever the forest had in store.

“I need a guide,” Chamill sighed. Her eyes scanned the ground in front of her. Suddenly, her fur rose. “Paw trails,” she mumbled, unsure if the shapes in the dirt were a good sign. They matched the ones she'd left behind, and they looked to be fresh. Then again, Chamill had no clue how to figure that out.

She searched around her, swinging her head in hopes of spotting a friendly face. She meowed, “Hello? Did anyone leave this trail behind?” When only the howling of the wind replied, she began to believe that this was her own trail.

Rustling came from the bushes nearby, heightening Chamill's senses as she got up. She called out again but received no response.

Suddenly she grew frightful, taking a step back. What if they wanted to hurt her?

She bit back a whimper as her body quivered. A white cat then exited the bush. It padded to a different direction, thankfully, and they didn’t seem to notice the frightened calico.

This white cat suddenly piqued Chamill's interest. When it was a safe distance away, she followed him, unintentionally resuming her venture through the trees. “Can I follow you? Did you see the flying ball in the sky? Do you know where I can get food and water and shelter?” But no matter what she asked and how loud she raised her voice, the white tom continued to ignore her.

She suspected the tom had ill intentions when he started to prowl. She gave chase, not knowing why. He could be leading her to a trap for all she knew, but the desire for company blinded her.

They climbed up a muddy slope, Chamill having difficulties hopping from boulders to girthy roots. “Slow down, please! I can't keep up!” The foliage grew thicker. Chamill didn't even noticed she went into a bush; a million things were crawling on her skin at this point that she didn't bother to identify what they each were.

Before she knew it, she had entered a cave. Normally she’d turn back and continue her venture through the forest, but she could make out the white figure of the tom farther into the shrinking tunnel. The fear of getting stuck between sharp outcrops kindled for a second when she had to squeeze through at multiple points, but when she crawled further through the tunnel, she lost sight of the white tom.

Eventually, she reached the end of the tunnel and re-emerged into a clearing. She swung her head about but saw no one else. “Are you still there?” she called out. A moment passed and she was replied with howling wind. Her mouth opened to cry out once more, but no sound came out. With her head bowed and face drooped, the sense of hopelessness and isolation crept along her spine.

When she was about to lie down in defeat, the crunching of leaves caught her attention. In front of her approached two cats, both of them surprisingly fit and their pelts free of fleas. Perplexity had struck both of their faces.

“A stray?” the cat with a thick gray coat wondered aloud.

“Must’ve come from where the giants live,” the other cat with a mottled pelt said. “Have you come here seeking for shelter?”

“Yes!” Chamill answered immediately with a hop. “I-I mean, yes, please.” She smiled meekly when the other two chuckled.

“Our camp’s not far from here; about a hundred pawsteps from here,” the gray cat informed. “We’ll gladly take you there if you aren’t already tuckered out.”

Chamill nodded despite her aching legs’ wishes. The other two cats looked at each other, communicating with their tails which caught Chamill’s interest. She couldn’t comprehend what they were saying before they dashed off in the direction they came from. She took deep breath and followed. At least there weren’t as many trees to dodge in this part, and the ground was consistently flatter.

Though, she couldn’t help looking back. Where was the white cat she’d been following disappeared to? There couldn’t possibly have been hidden passages in the tunnel she’d just passed through, could there? The idea of secret areas and pathways in the forest sounded crazy to Chamill. Then again, life in the wild was foreign to her. Anything could be possible for all she knew. All she could wonder was if she was ever going to meet him face-to-face.


End file.
